An Illusion of Consciousness
by Vegetarian Salad
Summary: When we find ourselves in places with which we are unfamiliar, with people we don't understand, we must learn to move forward, or perish. AU. NaruSasuNaru.
1. In My Beginning Is My End

"_In my beginning is my end,_

_In my end is my beginning."_

- T.S. Eliot

A sigh to end all sighs.

Few can sigh this way, and it only comes to pass at such a moment in one's life at which one feels like one will never sigh again. So, naturally, it is a sigh that _comes _naturally, a sigh which one does not need to practice to do correctly because it is a sigh that signals an end and can therefore only be done one way once because, after all, all ends are different, and all ends are actually only beginnings.

Digression.

The boy who had emitted this foreboding sigh focused the impossibly unwavering blue of his eyes on the impossibly unwavering white of the ceiling, his mouth set in a decisively soft frown – the kind of frown that promises a sad despair as its cause. (This was very different from the decisively firm frown he had worn the evening before, which can only be displayed in a resolutely hopeless situation.) His thin hands lay folded neatly on his stomach, his left wrist suffocated in stained gauze and medical tape. His back had never been straighter than it was now, nestled firmly into the perfectly white sheets, the cleanliness and blankness of which could only describe a hospital bed.

A woman stood beside him in that same unending white, expressing something to him that didn't seem to ride any sound waves to his ears, and which he was sure was unnecessary to know anyway. Through the wall, his brain led him to listen to the soft soprano melancholy of a girl weeping quietly in the next room.

"Naruto-kun?"

That's right. His name. Uzumaki Naruto. He decided that until now he must have forgotten it. He hadn't thought he would need it anymore; where he wanted to go, what he was called was irrelevant, as long as he was there.

"Naruto-kun?" The nurse was pretty, her black hair cropped short, dark eyes kind. His hazy mind couldn't be sure, but he thought he remembered someone calling her by Shizune. "As you know, this is your room, and you will be sharing it with another boy. He's been here a while; he'll help you get settled." The sympathy in her smile betrayed her thoughts: _But you don't really want to get settled here, do you? _Her pale finger was shaking as it extended. "Your clothes are in there, that closet. A man brought them – Iruka-san? He said he was your teacher. He was really worried. But yes, there are clothes in there, and some books." Gently, she turned and set a black notebook on the nightstand, a stark contrast to the infinite white. "This is yours. Use it. Write anything you like. We'll only read it if you ask us to, or if we find we have a real reason to need to." She stood straight, and her white teeth allowed themselves visibility through her lips as she clutched the clipboard to her chest. "Dinner's at 6:30. You can stay in here till then; we don't have a group session again today until after you eat. Any questions?"

For, he thought, the first time in his life, Naruto chose silence, his eyes fixed on her face. The one question that came to his mind was the one he knew he couldn't ask, and she seemed to know it too, nodding in understanding.

_Why didn't you let me die?_

0

Sleep was the activity Naruto chose when Shizune left him. His mind felt infinitely weary, and he succumbed to the pressure of his eyelids, curling into the fetal position as if it was the only way to protect himself.

He was an overly-energetic boy as a rule, who loved to talk and did so often, though he usually was only speaking to himself because he had no friends or family to knowledge. Despite the bright smile he could usually be seen wearing, he was immensely lonely and, more often than not, unhappy. No one gave a second thought to his feelings because no one expected them to falter from the bubbly optimism that didn't really exist.

His eyelids fluttered open to a digital clock on his nightstand reading 7:03 and a tray filled with food resting beside it. His stomach turned, sickened by the thought of putting anything in his mouth, but he pushed himself up on his bed, reaching for a dinner roll to ease the upset of the organ.

"You'd better have a strong jaw if you're intending to chew that."

He looked up; his gaze found a pale boy sitting cross-legged on the bed opposite him, a book propped in his lap. Dark hair fell over his face, leaving only thin pale lips and a delicate chin visible. As he studied him, that mouth moved again.

"We're not usually allowed to eat in here, so don't get used to having your meals delivered for you. Our last session of the day is from eight to nine. We have one at eight in the morning too, right after breakfast. Our only other is at two. Then at four, we have an 'arts and crafts' time, which I guess is supposed to be therapy too but is really just a waste of time. Other than that, we're free to do whatever wholesome activity we like." Through all this, he had been speaking in a monotone tenor that seemed outrageously arrogant in this place in which they were trapped, and each word had a dry lilt that betrayed sarcasm. His head lifted, large dark eyes almost glaring at him, an elegant eyebrow cocked. "Understand?"

Naruto nodded, staring. "How many times have you had to say that?"

A thin shoulder lifted up in a shrug. "Twenty or so."

Blue eyes widened. "How long have you been here?"

Dark eyes dropped again, and his frown seemed suddenly more deliberate. "Over a year," his voice was soft.

Naruto thought he liked it better that way. "Why've you been here so long?"

"I'm making no progress." His tone mocked that of a doctor, his hair swinging like a curtain before his profile. "Besides, they're cautious about letting people like me out."

The blonde head tilted in curiosity. "People like … you?" The question seemed to cross the line, as if what he was asking him to explain was against the rules of the conversation. But Naruto was always prone to breaking rules.

The glare returned as a glint to those dark eyes, and abruptly, he left the room, murmuring, "Come on. Group starts soon."

0

"Hello, everyone," Naruto could not get over the sweet gentility of Shizune's smile. "We have a new friend today: Naruto."

He forced a grin for the people around the circle. He had claimed a lumpy cushion of the couch, closest to his roommate, who sulked in an armchair beside him. On the other end of the couch, a small red-haired boy seemed to sink into his corner, and in the chair on that end, a shy girl with pale eyes was curled up, as if trying to disappear, and she smiled a shy greeting at Naruto, and his reply couldn't be anything but genuine. Shizune sat opposite their semi-circle in a rolling chair. "Shall we introduce ourselves?" she seemed determined to force these three quiet people to speak.

Naruto knew this would be a long stay. He was already at odds with one member of the group, which was smaller than he had supposed. These people seemed so sad, so lost and alone. They had given up on the thought of being rescued from their solitude. Naruto felt that he might have too but was determined not to end up like them.

0

"I'm Uchiha Sasuke." He had said softly. "I don't particularly like anything. I hate a lot of things."

Now Naruto sat cross-legged on his bed, tapping a pen against the blank white page of the black notebook, trying to think of something to write. Parallel to him, in perfect symmetry, Sasuke sat on his bed, a book once again claiming the space between his spread knees, and Naruto's eyes were drawn to him, to the slight dip of his head that kept his posture straight, to the panic of black hair that seemed to have a mind of its own, to the delicate curve of his jaw that clenched and relaxed periodically. There was something enchanting in his demeanor, that Naruto found attractive.

On the paper in his notebook, the first line began, in a scrawl of near-illegibility: _Uchiha Sasuke._

0

"Sasuke?" Naruto's love of speech had caught up with him as they were lying on their backs on their beds, waiting for Shizune to do the final check of the night to give them the call to go to bed.

"Hm?" Sasuke, in contrast, did _not _like to talk and had decided listening to his new roommate ramble was easier when one didn't respond.

"Do we ever get to go outside?"

He rolled over, his back to the stupid boy and his stupid questions.

Naruto sighed, figuring the conversation (_What conversation? _He thought.) was over, and his eyes lingered on the ceiling, fingers tapping against one another on his stomach. "I hope we get to go outside."

"Lights out." Shizune's kind face appeared through the door. "Naruto-kun, Tsunade-sama said your bandages can come off if the bleeding's stopped."

His legs swung to the floor, his socked toes settling lightly on wood. He cradled his arm, his gaze nervously flitting from his roommate to the counselor. "I'd prefer them on."

Shizune frowned. "Naruto-kun, no one here will judge you." She sat down lightly beside him and took his arm, carefully unwrapping the bandages. "Look at that. It won't even leave too bad a scar. Just make sure it stays clean."

Sasuke stared at him, curiosity smooth his face, as Shizune closed the door behind her. "Well?"

A lift, meeting, and immediate fall of the eyes; Naruto's face burned in self-consciousness, and he shifted uncomfortably. "'Well' what?"

Sasuke's lips pursed, eyes knowing. _Why are _you _here?_

A silence fell heavy over the room, settling like birds on their shoulders, and they sighed as if a weight actually remained prostrate there. "I tried to kill myself." The voice was soft, ashamed; the lips turned down, judging; the eyes cast away, sad. "I took a knife to my wrist and just …" He trailed off. The newly-closed wound shone with a level of pride and embarrassment, a jaded thing that would exist forever.

"Good."

Pale eyebrows furrowed as the blonde head lifted. "What?"

Sasuke leaned forward to hit the switch, and darkness descended in the room. Naruto, who remained seated, heard the rustling _plop _that meant his roommate had fallen back on his pillow, and then that emotionless voice followed: "I'm glad you're not a sociopath; they get old fast."

Naruto almost smiled.


	2. First Entry

**Book-manga-freak: **o.o I can always rely on you to review my stories! Yay:huggles: I'm trying to keep this updated regularly, but it's rough!

**LoversPastForgotten: **Thanks! I'll do my best to update!

**Ravensbff: **You could still write yours! It would probably be better than mine. -.- And I'm glad you like it!

**Mirror-image-90: **Thank you!

_Monday _

_So yeah – first entry, right? I don't even know what she expects me to write here; I mean, it's not like I have all that much to say. Oh, that quote, the one I wrote on the inside cover. It's by T.S. Eliot. It's all I remember from when I was in the hospital. Someone in the next room over had been reading it to whoever was in there. I asked what had happened to that person when I was checked out. They said he had died. For some reason, I felt like I knew him – and I wanted to commemorate him, because he died the same way I would have, had I succeeded. They said his name was Haku. _

Naruto was into his second day at the Konoha Resting Facility, more commonly called "the nuthouse" by teenagers and maybe everyone else too. He couldn't quite grasp the nickname, simply because no one of his housemates were crazy. They were quiet, maybe a little strange, but if that constituted insanity, most of the world qualified to be here.

He was already getting used to his surroundings. Although it was a refurbished house, it had the look and feel of a hospital. The white walls extended beyond his own room and enveloped the whole building. It smelled more like candles than medicine, which was a nice change from Konoha Hospital, where he had been for almost a month. It calmed his nerves, and he was starting to feel like this would be a nice place to live if it wasn't for the circumstances under which he was here. He supposed, though, that it was supposed to feel like that.

"Today," Shizune was smiling again, "you're going to share an experience you had with a member of your family, something that makes you feel good when you think about it. Hinata-san, why don't you start?"

The shy girl blushed, her fingers tapping together nervously as all eyes focused on her. "W-well, um, when I was younger, my cousin used to come over a lot. If I ever got hurt while we were playing, he would kiss it better." She giggled nostalgically. "He used to say he would always protect me because he was a knight and I was his princess."

Shizune nodded approvingly. "Very good. Gaara-kun?"

The red-headed boy sighed, and he was so small that his whole body seemed to shudder. "When I was six, I was being picked on at school." His tone was dry, emotionless. "My brother and sister saw one of the kids push me, and they defended me." A smile ghosted across his face and was gone. "My brother scared the shit out of all the kids, and Temari just held me while I cried, telling me they loved me."

Shizune's fingers moved quickly across her paper, propelling her pen, as she jotted something down. Looking up, she nodded at Naruto.

He ran a hand over his head, his blonde hair energetically sticking up. His smile was sheepish, but his tone was sad. "I, uh, don't have a family. Never have. I'm an orphan."

The nurse's face fell, and she seemed to realize her mistake in having them do this exercise.

He felt sorry for her and gestured to Sasuke, encouraging him to speak so t hat she knew he wasn't crushed they all had families and he didn't. Sure, he was lonely sometimes, but it was normal. He was used to it.

Sasuke's brow furrowed as he considered this question, his arms crossed over his chest. Their seating had changed since the day before. Sasuke and Naruto had claimed the corners of the two-cushioned couch, and Hinata was in her chair next to Naruto, which, for some reason, flustered her, and Gaara was in the other chair.

"I guess the day my brother took me out to play soccer for the first time," the Uchiha's voice was soft. "He was really good at it, and I wanted to be just like him, so I begged him to teach me and, when he did, it was the greatest day of my life." No one but Naruto heard him add, "At least I thought it was."

0

Naruto took a liking to the ping pong table. He played by himself, slamming the ball into the wall and letting the plaster return it at will. Something about the hollow _clack _of plastic against wood, the sweep of his arm as he sped to hit it, made him feel a little less useless.

"You're pretty good at that. Did you play tennis?"

He didn't falter, dropping his stance and catching the ball before turning to the woman addressing him. I did for a while." He shrugged, leaning against the table. "Quit when I realized t hey all hated me."

"And why did they hate you?" Something was pleasant about listening to her speak. Her blonde hair was pulled back into pigtails, and he knew she was older than she looked.

He turned his back on her. "Good question; I'll let you know when I get the answer."

"I'm Tsunade."

His head whipped back, wide eyes staring at her. "_You're _my doctor? There's no way."

She snorted. "And why not? I am a medically-trained psychiatrist."

"Weirdest psychiatrist I've ever seen," he muttered skeptically.

She scowled momentarily before descending into a chair by the door. "So, Naruto, why did you decide to die?"

The question, while startling, was refreshingly frank. He dropped the ball on the paddle, hitting it carefully, watching it fly and fall repeatedly, his tongue between his teeth as he pondered his answer. "Lots of reasons," he replied in a sigh of exasperation as the ball escaped him. "I'll make you a list sometime."

"The sarcasm's unnecessary."

"Who's being sarcastic?"

Tsunade sighed, tilting her head back, her big brown eyes closing. "The more obstinate you are, the longer you'll be here. You do know that?"

His bark of laughter was dripping with irony. "Is that supposed to be a threat? It's great here; Shizune's really nice, I get a warm bed, and there's food on the table for every meal. It's great."

Tsunade's eyebrow cocked as her gaze came back to his face. "What about your family? Won't you miss them?"

His eyes dropped, studying the sneakers on her feet, his smile dimming. "Well, I don't have a family."

"Well, why not?" Everything in her posture, in the way her arms folded over her chest, her legs crossed carefully; everything challenged him to challenge her. Her willpower was obviously strong, and Naruto knew that if he argued with her, she would win. The way she questioned him so off-handedly intrigued him, made him feel less strange, less vulnerable.

It was easier to lie when questions were direct. "They died in a car accident," he muttered his untruth carefully, sure that he pulled the 'mourning son' mask over his face without flaw. "I was about a year old." He had gotten used to this lie because it was the one he had shared with his fellow foster children, as well as the kids at school who gave him the time of day before hating him like everyone else. He was almost starting to believe it himself.

"I see," Tsunade's nod was skeptical, her tone dry. "So you never knew them." She chuckled in a motherly way. "And they left you all alone to fend for yourself. You poor thing." Her teasing would have been obvious to anyone else.

Not Naruto. "Yeah, well," his embarrassed habit of absently scratching the back of his head returned fully under the force of her mock sympathy. "I'll live."

She almost smiled at his naïveté, standing. "Well, it was nice meeting you, Naruto. I'll see you next week to talk further."

He blinked rapidly three times, signifying his surprise. "Next week? I only have to talk to you once a week?"

Her muscles twitched at the implied insult, but she ignored it, as a doctor should, waving as she left the room.

0

"I'm hungry," was Naruto's loud proclamation as he entered his room, falling onto his bed and clutching his stomach dramatically.

Sasuke's sighs became more pronounced each time the volume of his roommate's voice rose. "Dinner's in half an hour. Stop whining."

Naruto frowned, rolling onto his side, head nestled in the crook of his elbow, and he watched the Uchiha thoughtfully as his pale fingers moved in an amiable cursive, looping vividly up and back down the lines of the page. "What do write about, teme?"

Sasuke scowled at the nickname, with which he had been christened after he corrected Naruto's English, calling him 'Dobe.' His glare was pointed, his head not lifting. "None of your business."

_As expected._ The blonde stifled a yawn, watching as he went back to his journal. "I write about swings." He didn't know what possessed him to say it, but he had just shared the major element of one of his worst nightmares with a boy who didn't like him.

Sasuke's tilted head came up slowly, his eyes warily curious, intrigued by his tone. "Swings."

The blonde nodded, rolling back onto his back, staring up at the ceiling, trying to think of how to divert the subject from the one he had accidentally breached. "Yeah, swings. And dogs, and ramen, and how much you're an asshole."

The black mess of hair shivered violently as Sasuke went back to what he was doing, as if chastising him for bothering.

Naruto's defiant smirk was forced.


	3. Second Entry

_It's weird here. It's a house, and I guess it's supposed to make you feel like, you know, you live here. And I do, but it's supposed to feel like a home, I guess, and it doesn't to me. Or maybe it does. What does a home feel like anyway? I've never had one._

"This," Naruto's eye twitched involuntarily, "is retarded."

"Get used to it." Sasuke grumbled, tapping a pair of safety scissors impatiently against the edge of the table, then, scowling, tossed them into the mess of supplies on the table when the counselor gave him a look.

Naruto was trying his hand at macaroni art, his tongue held between his teeth, fingers stiff with glue. It was two-twenty. They had been in "arts and crafts therapy" for almost half an hour, but most of them were going about it half-heartedly. Naruto himself was the only one putting forth any real effort and that was only because the disdainful boy beside him had finished a rather impressive piece (or as impressive as macaroni art gets, anyway), and was now sitting with such an arrogance about him, Naruto was surprised the skin wasn't melting off his face.

The arts and crafts director, Jiraiya, was quite a character, hinting (or begging – whichever way one prefers to look at it) that someone do some naked art because he needed inspiration for a novel he was writing, another installment of the _Icha Icha Paradise _series. It reminded Naruto of one of his English teachers, who had devoured those books during class more often than he taught the language.

"Oy, Ero-sennin," Naruto drawled loudly, using the nickname with which he had already branded the counselor. "If you're a famous author, why are you working here?"

The older man grinned, tossing his grey ponytail over his shoulder. "Tsunade-san's an old friend. And I have a degree first and foremost in child psychology."

"Those poor kids," Gaara offered dully, his voice void of anything near the sympathy the statement suggested as a feeling.

Hinata giggled, and her face flushed red when Naruto looked over at her. "Oi, Hinata, what's your picture of?"

She fumbled to lift it, smiling apologetically for the drooping macaroni flower glued unoriginally to her paper.

Naruto smiled back, noting the metaphor that tied Hinata and that dying flower together. "Nice, Hinata!" He brandished his own proudly. "I made a bowl of ramen. I _love _ramen!"

"You're such an _idiot._" Sasuke's eyes rolled toward the ceiling.

"No demeaning words," Jiraiya rattled off, sighing, like he repeated the rule for the Uchiha on a regular basis.

"What did you make that's so great, anyway?" Naruto stared down at his roommate's paper, already scoffing. "Is that even _anything_?"

"It's the Uchiha crest, moron." Dark eyes turned on him in a glare. "My family used to be considered nobility."

"Until you came along and they started _sucking._" Naruto stuck his tongue out, grinning triumphantly, thinking he'd one.

It took him a moment to realize that the room had gone silent, and the four others were staring at him in disbelief. His gaze shifted to Sasuke's face, and he had a moment to be astonished by the listlessly melancholy way his face had smoothed before he turned to storm from the room.

Naruto was up in another moment to follow him, disturbed beyond any reason he could find in himself that he had put that look on his face, that he had awoken that despair in his eyes.

Hinata grabbed the sleeve of his sweatshirt, her small hand holding him back in a meekly determined way. "Shizune-san will take care of him." The even tone of her voice gave the effect of someone going by protocol. "He'll be fine, Naruto-kun."

"Shizune," Jiraiya was on a phone in the corner. "Code yellow. Yes. Sasuke." He hung up, his shoulders racked with a sigh like he was so tired, so old, and he turned back to face the remaining residents of the room, a smile back on his face. "Nothing to worry about!" He exclaimed loudly, clapping his hands. "We'll just stay in her until Shizune-san gets back."

This statement had an ominous feeling that Naruto found heavy on his shoulders, and he squirmed in his chair. "What's going on?" he demanded. "Why can't I go find Sasuke?"

"Because he's probably going to the hospital," Gaara's sudden straight-forwardness startled him.

"Sasuke-kun hurts himself a lot, even here." Hinata explained sadly. "He sometimes hurts himself so badly that they have to take him back to the hospital."

Naruto's heart sank. "Is that why he's been here so long?" he whispered, horrified. Anger welled through him, and his next words were shouted. "Why doesn't he just stop? Then he could go home!" he faltered, eyes averting as he realized his own hypocrisy. _Then again, Naruto, why don't _you _just stop?_

No one answered his question. The room fell stagnant with silence, as if they knew he had offered himself an answer in his self-reprimanding. A moment later, Shizune came to them, and that weary smile seemed to be contagious.

0

The darkness of their bedroom was pierced by moonlight. Its particles trailed like dust down the wall, stretching across the floor, sliding across Sasuke's next, illuminating him in a deathly surreal pallor.

Naruto's eyes would not fall shut, and they remained trained on Sasuke's immobile back, watching for any sign of movement. He felt strangely protective, but he brushed it off as guilt, that he had caused Sasuke to lose control.

The Uchiha shifted (Naruto flinched), relaxed onto his back, his breath sighing across his lips, eyes lightly closed. His bandaged wrist drooped off the bed, and the moonlight claimed the skin of his elegant fingers, the curve of his throat, the smooth expanse of his forehead.

Naruto swallowed hard, his own arm draping comfortably off the edge of his own bed, his bare wrist scraping lovingly across the sharp corner of his bed frame. He closed his eyes, relaxing into the rhythm of his skin being mercifully torn apart. It was the least he could do now, he reasoned. It was his fault Sasuke tried to kill himself again, and what right did he have to bring that impulse to someone when he was the one who really _should _die? He was the one that nobody wanted.

He opened his eyes as the skin ripped, as the soft warmth of blood trickled weakly over the butt of his hand, and the pain seared through his flesh. He welcomed it, and with the tingling of his own blood on his fingertips, his brain wondering belatedly if he should clean it off, he fell asleep.


	4. Third Entry

_I didn't celebrate my birthday until I was eight years old._

_I didn't have a family, and there were so many kids in the orphanage where I lived that all we really got was a cupcake and a pat on the head. Nothing real. But when I was eight, I made some friends, and they threw me a party for my ninth birthday. It was great. They celebrated my tenth and eleventh birthdays too._

_Of course, like everyone else, they decided to hate me like everyone else. I celebrated my twelfth birthday alone._

_I celebrated by taking a knife to my wrist for the first time. Birthdays are times to start something new, right?_

"Dobe," the word was a bored drawl, and it probably wouldn't be quite the same word if it was said any other way.

Naruto opened his eyes to it, already scowling. "Don't call me that, asshole. I'm awake."

Sasuke's eyes met the ceiling as if they were saying, "See what I have to put up with?" and he sighed. "I wasn't trying to wake you up, Naruto. Look at your sheet."

He did, and released upon the unhearing walls a string of the strongest words he could think of. Where his arm had rested, a vermillion stain bloomed cheerfully on the white fabric, as if mocking him with its brightness. "Great," he muttered, throwing back his blankets and pouting at it, as if that served as stain remover. "Fuckin' great. How're you going to explain _this _to Shizune, Naruto?"

"Not by talking to yourself, that's for sure," Sasuke's eyebrow lifted; his hands lazy about his pockets. "Didn't your guardian send you some of your own linen?"

Naruto tried to ignore the fresh gauze around his left wrist, attempting a vehement expression. "I don't care that much about _sheets_, teme."

Sasuke rolled his eyes again, and he walked away, seemingly washing his hands of the situation, leaving Naruto to stare at the bed, thinking of the best way to fix it. He supposed he should start by cleaning up his wrist and then throw the sheets out the –

"Oof!" His thought ended abruptly as a cotton missile met the side of his head. He peeled it off, blinking at it, then at Sasuke.

"Just take it." The Uchiha leaned against the doorframe, tossing him a wet washcloth now that he had his attention. His arms crossed over his chest. "I'm going to breakfast. I'll stall for you." Then he was gone out the door.

Naruto frowned after him, the washcloth pressed to his wrist, wondering if he was sick, then shrugged, stripping his bed and stowing the incriminating sheet in the bag in his closet, drawing away a sweatshirt.

He sighed as he pulled it over his head. Back to hiding his cuts "This sucks," he muttered, angry at himself, as he left the room, wondering why he was so stupid.

0

"We're going to pair up and talk today." Shizune smiled brightly, as always. "Now I've never done this exercise with this particular group. There are rules. I'm going to give you a subject and you'll talk with your partner until I change the topic and your partner. Naruto-kun, before you ask," her hand came up to stop his question, "the purpose of this exercise is to, first and foremost, teach us how to communicate our thoughts and feelings. Go ahead! Pair up!"

Naruto scowled, shifting to face Sasuke, legs crossed. He was constantly trying to find a reason not to do or talk about something by asking its purpose. Shizune had already figured out that she should tell him before he asked so that he _couldn't _ask.

"Okay!" Shizune's hands clapped together enthusiastically. "Your first topic is _music. _Go ahead."

Naruto stared at his roommate. "_Well_?"

"I don't really listen to music." Sasuke sighed, bored. "It's a waste of time."

Naruto's jaw had dropped open, disbelief scrawled across his features. "A waste of _time_? How can you _say _that? Music makes up most of our lives!"  
"Your life, maybe."

His finger was accusing as it violated Sasuke's personal bubble. "_Your _life too, teme! Think about it. All movies have music, all TV shows, commercials – everything is musical!"

"So what kind of music _do _you listen to?" Sasuke seemed half-desperate to remove the focus from himself, and a disdainful hand removed Naruto's from the vicinity of his face. "You listen to that pop-punk crap, don't you? You have that vibe about you."

The blonde boy's whole body seemed to tremble, like he might erupt. "I don't listen to pop _anything_!" His words poured forth like lava, red-hot and scornful. "I listen to _punk rock._" He emphasized the words with meaning. "_Way _different."

"If you say so."

"I do!"

"Next topic," Shizune's voice pierced through the tension, pitched high with nervousness, as she had been listening to them. "Pets."

Naruto's face softened immediately, and he smiled, hugging his knees. "I want a dog." He offered quietly.

Sasuke's head tilted a fraction to the side, as if startled into curiosity by his partner's seeming bipolarity. "Why?"

Those blue eyes were far away. "They love you unconditionally."

0

"Oi, Sasuke," Naruto's muffled voice leaked through his blanket prison before his blonde head wrestled free. "Sasuke. Sasuke, are you listening to me?" He lifted a hand to block from his face the pen that had just flown across the room as response. "A 'yes' would have worked just as well. Anyway," he fought into a sitting position. "Why did you let me use your sheet?"

The Uchiha shrugged, arranging his things on his nightstand as he did every night before he slept, and flicked his wrist, now bare and with a seemly pink incision across the underside, through the air. "You're such a moron; I didn't think you'd be able to figure out how to fix it. Anyone else could."

Naruto snorted, tossing his head haughtily. "Yeah, well, you're not so great." It was a half-hearted comeback, but he figured they both knew it was just his way of thanking him.


	5. Fourth Entry

_The first pet I ever had was this sick rabbit I found in the yard at the orphanage. Its leg was broken, and the other kids swore it was gonna die, but I took care of it anyway. It made me feel like maybe I was important to someone or something._

_And then it died. I didn't think that of myself anymore._

The patter of rain drummed against the window, trailing down the clear, clean glass like hands grasping desperately at anything, hoping in their despair that there will be a hold to which thy could cling, from which they could dangle their teetering lives.

It made Naruto dizzy, and he turned from the dark sky, the morning just beginning to hem the bottom of the window sill with grey.

It was nearly five o'clock, he assumed, and his hemisphere of the world was going to be waking soon, starting a new day of bustling uselessness, with frantic activity for which no one understood the purpose. Naruto enjoyed the lovely rush of life, the fun of being busy, but at this moment, he would not like anything so much as lying in the cool darkness, listening to the rain play a punk rock beat against the window and the gentle breathing of the boy on the other side of the room.

By the shimmering light of the shower, he could make out the curve of Sasuke's form in his bed, and even though he was so near, his presence there made him feel lonely, like the person closest to him was also far away.

He winced at the thought, rolling to stretch out on his back, eyes focused through the darkness on a ceiling illuminated through water. He thought if the rain came down hard enough, this would be a reverse aquarium, a bottle in the sea. Maybe he was the message?

His head fell to the side, like he had been slapped, and he found himself staring once again at his roommate, who was curled into an effective fetal position, his arms tucked around his abdomen, cheek barely balancing on the edge of his pillow. _Then again, he seems more the type to carry a message to the world. _He stirred suddenly, with a sharp hissing intake of breath, and lifted his head, dark eyes barely cracking to look at him. "Why are you awake, Naruto?"

His tongue darted out, wetting his dry lips. "I had a nightmare." His voice was hoarse. It sounded strange to his ears. The spell was broken, the rain receding into the background.

Sasuke's sigh lacked its usual irritation, his gaze turning toward the weeping window. "Nightmare's over now, right?"

The blonde head nodded once against his pillow, his chin straining to lift as he looked toward the sky. "It's almost dawn."

Sasuke flopped back down, dark hair falling over his face. His face was gentle, seemingly understanding. "Go back to sleep, Naruto." He followed his own advice, drifting off almost immediately, and the other boy soon followed suit, noticing how the room suddenly felt less empty.

0

The rain persisted stubbornly throughout the day, accompanied by rumbling snores of lazy thunder. It made Naruto feel drowsy, and Group was a series of jolting prods by Sasuke's elbow to wake him when he dozed off. Luckily, he got by Shizune's notice, and when Sasuke left his place on the couch when they finished, he toppled over into his spot, closing his eyes. "I hate days like this." He murmured loudly.

"Why?" Shizune's head tilted in his direction as she sat easily in a chair at the end of the room to supervise their activity.

"Don't they depress you?" He rolled onto his back, his legs propped up on the arm of the couch. "I mean, it's so dark out. It's like nighttime."

"Naruto-kun," she sounded apologetic. "I can't let you go to sleep."

"Yeah, yeah," he threw his arm over his eyes, sighing dramatically. "'I can't sleep away my sadness.' Got it." He rolled off the couch, to his feet, and tottered off to find something to do.

0

"Yo, Gaara," Naruto grinned at him as he entered the basement, tossing his head toward the ping pong table. "Wanna play?"

The blue eyes turned on him in a glare. He was silent for a long moment. Then: "No."

"Oh, come _on._" If anything, no one could deny that he was persistent. "It's no fun to play alone."

Gaara ignored him, apparently considering a second response unjustified.

"Why do you always just sit around staring at the wall, anyway?" Naruto was maybe _overly _persistent. "I mean, do you actually _do _anything?"

The eyes turned more deliberately away, and the voice was softer as it offered another "No."

His eyebrow shot up, lip quirking. "Well, why not?"

A thin shoulder shifted beneath a black t-shirt, offering a shrug.

"Then, come _play _with me!" Naruto's grin was pleading. "If you don't know _why _you never do anything, then _do _something." He emphasized the words like they were the most important to ever be uttered, the profound statement that explained the universe.

Gaara's gaze lifted to the bright face of the boy standing over him. His expression remained carefully neutral, like a slate wiped clean of emotion as soon as it was written there. Both boys were silent, just watching each other.

Naruto was feeling uncharacteristically patient, but part of him believed it was soon to be not uncharacteristic at all. Soon, it would simply be another skill he had learned to deal with everything. He figured, bitterly, that it would help him wait out the loneliness he was sure to be feeling for most of the rest of his life.

"What are you doing?"

One pair of blue eyes shifted to the face of the boy who had just entered; the other descended to the floor. Naruto's scowl was automatic, "None of your business, teme."

Sasuke's eyebrow cocked, a sigh expelled from his lips, his dark eyes rolling, as he turned to the opposite corner of the room, falling onto a ratty chair, a novel propped in his fingers, and he proceeded to disregard their presence.

Naruto turned back to Gaara, frowning when he realized that the couch was vacant, a sad memory of loneliness, and he felt empty, as if he was talking to air all along.

The sun made its breakthrough as it was setting, a gentle mocking idea of a day wasted. The rain's soft patter continued, offering the promise of a rainbow in an attempt to offset the gloom that had settled over the world today. Somewhere in the house, a window was open, whisking clean, cool air across their sad, introverted faced.

Naruto remained stationed by the window, a soldier for happiness, and the water trailed like tears down the glass, mirroring his dry face. He wondered how it had come to this; how life had become just one day after another of hoping for death.

His existentialism made his heart hurt. It stung with the need for joy; for sunshine, smiling faces, laughter. The life he had chosen did not fit. It was a jigsaw piece for the wrong puzzle. How had he ended up here?

His fist clenched, fingernails scraping lovingly across his palm. This was not how he wanted to live his life. Suddenly, it seemed too much for him to ask the world to let him die. He knew without doubt that somehow he was supposed to make it through.

Even if he was alone, and he knew he was, he had to continue to live, because, if he died now, the world would have won. He would have let life defeat him. Uzumaki Naruto didn't like to lose.

A rainbow broke forth, and a smile followed.

0

"Do you ever get excited for tomorrow?" Naruto's voice was a sing-song cheer as he straightened the constantly-tangled blankets on his bed in an attempt to be able to climb into them.

Sasuke was already stretched out upon his own bed, his eyes on the ceiling. At the question, his gaze turned sourly in Naruto's direction, as if in disbelief that he would think he had ever been excited about _anything._

The blonde boy shrugged good-naturedly, his smile fading. "I was just asking, teme." He muttered, burrowing into his covers and turning his back on his roommate.


End file.
